So long-suffering-Dilly and I were discussing booking a holiday trip. And of course, the question is where should we go?
Well, obviously we have to be sensible. We're slap in the middle of a mammoth recession, and our esteemed government is making sweeping cuts that make the Texas chain saw massacre look like an episode of Friends.
If we tighten our belts any more, our top and bottom halves will simply separate at the waist and fall to the floor, flopping around and making a mess on the carpets at fortress Balham.
So naturally, Dilly was looking at the UK. Beautiful, but affordable.
Me, I was nose deep in a brochure on Antarctica. Because that's the kind of fiscally responsible, plan-for-tomorrow guy I am.
Yes, we'd have to re-mortgage the house. Yes, I'd have to become a career criminal (or investment banker, as they're sometimes known). Yes, long-suffering-Dilly might have to put on full make up and hang around on Tooting common by night (although I haven't actually broached that subject to her yet). But I'm sure she'd agree that it would totally be worth it.
Because there's something about the bottom of the world that gets under your skin and won't let go. Maybe it's the eerie silence, maybe it's the abundant and amazing wildlife that has no fear of humans because it has nothing to fear from them. But whatever it is, it's a powerful force. A force of nature, actually.
I reckon that's why the seal above looks so happy. Because he's living on what I consider to be the most idyllic spot on earth- South Georgia. And I'm determined that long-suffering-Dilly should be compensated for her long-sufferingness by seeing it just once.
That's what's going to happen. And to hell with the bank.
